The adventure log is where you list the sessions and adventures your party has been on, but for now, we suggest doing a very light “story so far” post. Just give a brief overview of what the party has done up to this point. After each future session, create a new post detailing that night’s adventures.

One final tip: Don’t stress about making your Obsidian Portal campaign look perfect. Instead, just make it work for you and your group. If everyone is having fun, then you’re using Obsidian Portal exactly as it was designed, even if your adventure log isn’t always up to date or your characters don’t all have portrait pictures.

A group of four outsiders found themselves in the Green Dragon Inn. Up to no good, one of them brutally murdered one of the owners. Jago, the local blacksmith burst in informing everyone in the Green Dragon that his daughter was kidnapped by mysterious robed figures! This was enough distraction for the murderer to blame his crime on the cultists. Little did he know, there might have been a witness hiding nearby.

Accompanied by the other owner of the Inn, who was also the husband of the murdered one, the group followed the tracks of the robed figures through a forest to an ancient tomb. After a few fights against the robed figures, the group discovered they were cultists attempting to open a portal to another world.

By sacrificing Jago’s daughter, the cultists were able to open this portal, and unleash upon the world a tidal wave of destruction. Monsters have returned, and they are out for blood.

Only two of the outsiders managed to escape with their lives, but perhaps those wont last as long as they would hope.

“Creyt’Owes, save us,” Darek muttered under his breath. He looked to his three companions behind him and knew everyone here was doomed.

The scene in front of him was the stuff of nightmares. Black mists, creatures without skin, creatures covered in what can only be described as blood, and all matter of foul beasts were pouring out of the cultists’ portal.

“This can’t be real!” one of his companions, a bard, shouted over the roaring sound being created by the portal or the mass of monsters or both. He looked like he was taking the scene in, committing it to memory, like he was excited about what was happening.

The monsters caught sight of the group, and in that moment Darek knew what he had to do. His grip tightened around his maul, “Run!” he belted at his companions. “I call upon Creyt’Owes, the mightiest of Exdall!”

Invoking his god, Darek fought off the horde of abominations long enough to let his companions escape. His final sight before meeting Creyt’Owes was the bard. A bright flash that seemed to come from Kaladin, thrust the bard backward. He could have sworn he also heard Kaladin saying, “We need the extra time.” Darek watched as the bard, too, was consumed by the monsters, giving Kaladin and Thingol the time they needed to escape.

Two figures burst through the tavern door. One was tall and slender with an athletic build, the other short, with haunting red eyes.

“Water” the shorter one croaked.

Brecca, daughter to the owner of the Green Dragon, was speaking to a man wearing a brown leather trench coat. Her younger brother, Thompson, who was sitting next to her looked at the two men and turned white.

“Thats them, sheriff,” she pointed, “they’s the ones who went to find Jago’s daughter.”
The sheriff, Jarod Morgouse, stood up looking the figures over. “Where’re th’ rest of ya’?”
“Brecca here told me there was four of you fellers.”

“Dead,” the tall one croaked, “please, we’ve ran here all the way from the tomb-”

“It doesn’t fucking matter where we were,” the shorter figure shouted, “everyone here is going to die if they don’t run.” His red eyes meeting Jarod’s. He shifted his gaze to the taller figure. “There, Thingol, we’ve warned them. Now lets go before this place is wiped off the map.”

The shorter figure turned to leave when Jarod grabbed his shoulder, “Now hold your horses, son. I see that you’ve got red eyes.” He pointed towards a small boy sitting next to Brecca who grew even more pale. “Thompson here told me the strangest story about something that happened in the cellar last night.”

“You see,” Jarod continued reaching for a pair of manacles hanging from his belt, “Thompson told me he was sneaking wine last night when he heard his mother’s voice talking to someone as she came down into the cellar. He didn’t want his mother to catch him in the act, so he hid behind one of the large barrels down there.” His manacles now rested in his hands.

The shorter figure paused, raising a bandaged thumb towards his mouth, slowly.
“He tells me the person she led down there man killed her in cold blood, using some sort of blood magic.” Jarod, quick as lightning, locked his manacles on the short figure’s wrist, stopping his hand from reaching his mouth. And before the figure could do anything to fight Jarod, the Sheriff clasped the manacles on the man’s other wrist.

“Let me go!” he gasped.

“Not only that, Thompson’s description of that man matches the description of someone else we’ve been lookin’ for.” Jarod pulled a piece of parchment from his leather trench coat. On it was an image of a man’s face under the words: “Kaladin Stormolfsed is wanted, dead or alive, for the murders of 6 residents in Apocolite.” Under the image was: “He is cursed with red eyes, and is a suspected user of blood magic. The reward is 600 gold pieces dead or 800 alive.”

Jarod looked at the wanted poster, and back at the figure, “Thats you all right, Mr. Kaladin Stormolfsed.”

“None of that matters anymore,” Thingol interjected, “there are monsters coming this way to kill everyone and everything here.”

“Monsters?!” Jarod jested, “Oh no, we better run away before some goblins eat our souls!”
“This is no laughing matter.”

“Shut the hell up, you are under arrest too, for conspiring with the likes of him,” he said pointing to Kaladin. Jarod looked Thingol up and down stopping at his pointed ears, “We’re heading to Apocolite, and we ain’t got no time to spare, elf.”

Thompson and Brecca watched as Jarod loaded the two men into a caged wagon. Thompson looked up to Brecca and whipered, “But what happened to Dad and the other men that went with them?”

“What do you think?!” she burst out, “Kaladin killed them too. He’ll rot in hell for what he did to Mom and Dad.”

“But the elf said something about monsters.”

“Grow up Thompson, the only monsters are the ones that the Sheriff just carted away.”
Brecca turned and re-entered the Green Dragon, and Thompson followed her in.

From outside there was no one near enough to hear the screams of Brecca and Thompson as their bodies were shredded by an unseen beast. No one would find the scene in which their blood covered every inch of the floors and walls. The only thing people would find was the burnt down inn the next morning. The deaths of the children would eventually be ruled as an accident related to the fire.